Won't let her go
by BlueLion20
Summary: Soulmate marks are a thing. Anya has discovered who her mate is. And she won't let her go. Even if the Sky People, her own people and the Mountain Men try to come between them. Clanya. AnyaxClarke. Anya will live in this. Eventual Clanya.
1. Anya's mate

Disclaimer-as usual, I own nothing

Summary-Soulmate marks are a thing. Anya has discovered who her mate is. And she won't let her go. Clanya. AnyaxClarke. Anya will live in this. Eventual Clanya.

 **Won't let her go-Anya's mate**

Onya hadn't believed it when she first saw the mark. On the girl's left shoulder. The moment Onya met the girl on the bridge, she felt a pull to the girl. She didn't know why. That was until She and her warriors captured Klark and her friend Fin.

They kept Klark and Fin captive. The condition of what Onya gave to Klark was simple. Help heal her Seken, Tris, or the boy, Fin would die. Onya saw the mark on Klark's shoulder while the girl was still unconscious. A fat, green mark, in the shape of a "V." Onya knew where her own mark was. Right on her own shoulder. Klark, Onya understood at that moment, was _hers_. There was no arguing with that. She was going to take Klark as her own. Her mate. She was hers by right, as Onya was Klark's.

Onya made the decision when she watched Klark tending to the wounded Tris, hurt by the bomb at the bridge that Klark had ordered made. She was going to keep Klark. If she healed Tris, she would keep Klark and spare Fin. If Tris wasn't healed, she'd have Fin killed and keep Klark. Klark was her mate and was going to be part of her tribe now. Klark's days with the Sky people were over.

Onya waited for her mate to be done. It was long and difficult, but eventually Klark worked her healing on Tris. Klark explained that she needed to get rid of the toxic blood in Tris's system. Onya felt suspicious as soon as Klark put a vial into Tris's wound, spilling Tris's precious blood. It was only then that Onya grabbed Klark roughly and pulled her away from her Seken. It was when Klark came to her and her warrior, Artlen with a sharp needle, telling them that Tris needed blood, that Onya for once felt more than a little distrust for her mate.

But in the end, it was too late. Tris was dead. The pain that slashed into Onya's heart was overwhelming. She kept her grief under control, but it was practically overwhelming.

She would not raise a hand to her mate. But her mate had been the one that killed Tris. Onya cut a piece of Tris's braid off, put it in her pocket. She would bring it to the girl's mother and father, kneel before them and bow her head in respect and grief. She put the piece of braid in her pocket, aware of her mate staring at her from behind. She could feel her anger heat up. This was her mate's doing. Klark's people had made the bomb and it had blown up on the bridge.

Tris's blood was on her mate's hands. Onya's jaw clenched. It didn't matter. She had made her promise. The boy, Fin was to die. But her mate would stay with her. Klark was to be one of their people with time. Onya would not let Klark go now that she had her.

She gave the nod to Teppo. To kill the boy. Teppo grabbed Fin and picked him up, carrying him away. He began screaming and so did Klark, reaching for him, but Onya's other warriors, Zuk and Raldo restrained Klark and held her back. Onya turned to them and barked at them in Trigedasleng, "Do not let her leave. Under any circumstance. She is my mate. You will not harm her. She is to be one of us now."

Both Zuk and Raldo blinked and did not move for a moment when they heard this, but held the Sky girl fast and they looked down at her while holding her captive. Onya's mate was a sky girl? Neither of them had been expecting that. But they offered no words on the subject.

Onya ignored Klark's cries not to hurt Fin. Onya knew that Klark loved the boy. But it did not matter. He was of the sky and he was not her concern. Only Klark was. Klark would cry for Fin and would mourn for all of her people, but she would have a new life with Onya's tribe. She gave the orders to one of her guards to carry Tris to the horses. When the battle was over, they would bring Tris's body to the girl's mother and father. She ordered the guard, Raldo to watch Klark. Zuk waited outside with Onya.

It was a foolish move that Onya made. For when she returned to the room, knowing that Raldo likely would tell Klark that she would have a new life with them, she found Raldo's dead body on the ground, his throat slit. And Klark was gone.

Onya didn't even have the strength to feel pride for her small and untrained mate taking down a warrior as strong as Raldo and killing him. She snarled and ran from the room, calling an order once she was outside for the warriors around her to find Klark and bring the sky girl to her unharmed. Her mate wouldn't get far. Onya had placed traps with her warriors all around the campsite. If Klark was fleeing, she would be snagged by one by now most likely.

Onya tried to ignore the fear in her chest. Her own heart racing fast. Her mate. Her other half. And she was trying to flee. Did Klark not know? Did Klark not sense what was between them? Were the people of the sky kept ignorant of the mating bond? But Onya knew. Klark was going to warn her people. Onya would not allow this if she could. Ten minutes later, Onya's prediction about Klark being taken captive by a trap came true. She and three of her men found Klark hanging upside down in a snag, the snag around Klark's ankle.

Onya grinned despite herself. Her mate hadn't gotten far. And she wouldn't ever again. Onya had Klark cut down and taken to the camp's ground, tying her next to the fire. Onya kept watch over Klark as the young girl slept. Onya did not care if Klark was trying to keep her people safe. Klark needed to know what was between them. When Klark awoke, Onya still watched the young girl. Klark tensed when she realized she was being looked at by the Trikru woman. She tried to get up but the chains were bolted into the ground.

Onya kept her smirk away. She ignored the pain in her chest at her mate trying to run again. Klark _would_ try to run away again, wouldn't she? Her beautiful mate had a strong will. Good. She would make a great warrior. And Onya would see just how willful Klark was in Onya's furs in the future. Onya was not foolish enough to believe that Klark would fall into her furs so soon after her people were killed. But Onya could wait. She could be patient. She kept her dark eyes on Klark and she watched as Klark watched her, not moving.

Onya was certain that Klark knew of their bond. She was certain of it now. But she needed to make sure. She lifted herself from the fire and walked around it, crouching down in front of Klark who was trying to shuffle back, but couldn't get away because of the chains. Onya reached to Klark's shoulder and grabbed Klark's shirt pulling it back as Klark squirmed. Klark's gasps went ignored by Onya and the older grabbed Klark with her other arm, holding Klark tight. She revealed Klark's green mark and Onya let go of Klark's shirt when Klark looked back at her alarmed. Onya stepped back and reached up to her own clothing, taking off her fur jacket and some of her armor, then reached for her shirt, pulling back the shirt shoulder on her left shoulder, revealing her own mark to Klark.

Klark looked startled by this revelation and Onya saw that Klark did not know. But that shock soon disappeared. Perhaps it wasn't such a surprise to her after all.

"You knew?" Onya asked in gonedasleng, aware that none of the Sky people spoke Trigedasleng. Klark shook her head, reaching up and covering her shoulder with her shirt. "No." She answered. "I didn't. But I suspected it." Onya stared with an unchanging expression. "You suspected." She echoed. "And you still tried to run away?"

Klark flinched at the accusation in Onya's voice and she glared up defiantly at the older woman. "I had to warn my people. I had to get them away. You'd do the same for yours if it was the other way around." Onya nodded and locked eyes with Klark. "It _was_ the other way around, Klark. There was a village that was wiped out by your missiles. I would have saved that village if I could. But it was too late." Onya's heart still mourned for her people. The burnt bodies of the women, men and children that would never live to see the next day and the weeping children and women that took refuge in Polis would remain with her for a long time.

Klark shuddered, looking away. "I'm sorry, Anya. We didn't know. I swear, it was an accident."

Onya nodded. "Accident or not, your people will not harm any of ours again. And you will come with us." Klark shook her head, glaring now. "No, Anya. I have to go back to my camp. If my people are to be under attack then let me fight with them." Anya shook her head. "I will not. You are to stay here. You will be one of our people. You will be a Trikru warrior in time. But I cannot let you go back to the Sky people. When we are done with the battle, we will speak about your place in this tribe. But for now you will remain here." She turned to the guards around her while Klark struggled, hissing, "no" in her struggles.

"Zuk, Foto, Lorna, Kevten, Ekra. The five of you guard Klark. Give her no sharp object. Give her nothing she could use to free herself. And watch her." Onya commanded. She was duty bound and needed to wipe out the sky people now, but Onya would not leave without ensuring that her mate could not escape again.

Tristen arrived and Onya made it clear he was not to go near his mate. Tristen had been startled by this information, but Onya had shown him the mark. Onya pressed that if Tristen tried to harm Klark, she would bring the law of harming her mate to Heda herself. Mates were sacred. So if one tried to hurt someone's mate, that mate had every right to go to their Heda and demand justice. Tristen had glared at Onya, but begrudgingly agreed. He left to go kill the Sky people with some of Onya's warriors. Onya stood back from Klark. She said calmly, despite Klark's panic, knowing she had her duty, despite Klark's pleas, "I'll keep you safe. And I will give you a home with my people. I promise you."

"Please," Klark said, face desperate, "I need to go back home."

Onya shook her head, her decision final. "You _are_ home." Klark whimpered, trying not to cry, but failing as she struggled against the chains. Onya fought down the desire to crouch down and pull the blonde into her arms and hold her there. There would be plenty of time for that later. Now was not the time. Klark would not welcome her yet. And Onya had to do as her Heda told her. The Sky people, all but Klark, had to die.

She heard frightened gasps and alarmed growls around her. She turned to see one of their fire patches sat ablaze in the distance. It was one of the signals telling them that the Reapers were out and hunting. Onya hissed, looking at Klark before she could stop herself, knowing her first duty was to the people around her, the Trikru. But she found her eyes on Klark immediately. She had to keep Klark safe. She barked back to one of the warriors she knew was there in their language, making sure Klark didn't know what she was saying, "Kurdo, come! Take Klark!"

She heard footsteps against the brush crack behind her. She turned to find Kurdo approaching, his leather and fur mask hiding his face. She ordered him in Trigedaslang to protect Klark and to bring her back to the village and hold her there till they were done killing off the Sky people. Kurdo nodded and walked forward.

Onya watched as Klark was unchained and Kurdo carried her off to his horse. As soon as Kurdo's horse rode off out of sight with Kurdo and Klark on it, Onya tried to force her distracted mind from thinking about Klark's safety and her trying to escape, and focus on her task. When she spoke with her people, they came up with the plan, the strategy. They would attack soon. Then one of her lieutenants, Varena approached, alarm on her furious, dark-skinned face. In their native language, Varena told Onya that Kurdo had been attacked. That he was tied up and unconscious with some of his clothes and his mask stolen. He was back in the forest.

At first, Onya hadn't understood, but only a moment later she did and anger, followed by fear of losing her mate hit. Linkin. The traitor. She had given him a chance to make up for his foolishness at the bridge by fighting with them on this day against the Sky people, but he had chosen his side. He was one of the Sky people now. And if possible, more of an outrage, he was taking her mate back to the Sky peoples' camp. He was taking her mate from Onya. Fury expanded through Onya, turning into bloodlust.

Linkin. She would kill him for this injury. For taking Klark.

She grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows and gave the order to go to the tunnels. She knew that was where Linkin was taking Klark. She got on her horse and they rode to the tunnels.

When they reached the tunnels, Onya knew with horror and apprehension that Linkin was risking her mate by sending Klark into the tunnels where there were Reapers. Onya got off her horse and armed herself with her bow, pulling out one of the arrows, seeing Linkin's retreating figure and aimed at the traitor. "Linkin!" She roared, firing the arrow. He dodged out of the way and when the darkness of the tunnel swallowed him and Klark up, she knew she had lost them. She had lost her mate. For now.

She stepped back, snarling orders to her warriors. There was still time. If they could cut off Klark, Linkin and the boy, Fin from Fin and Klark's people then they could kill off both men and take Klark back. If not? Onya would just kill every sky person till she got Klark back.

It was a pity the battle did not end that way. In the fight, while her soldiers fought and hit the Sky peoples' soft and weak bodies with their powerful fists, an armed and fierce Onya had seen her mate, along with many other Sky people go into their metal ship, closing the door and she leapt up after them. It was perhaps not the most cunning move on a warrior's part. But Onya was not afraid of some soft Sky people. She would kill every last one of them till she and Klark were the only two left in the metal tube.

She leapt up sliding herself into the hatch, rolling down till she was on her feet, in the ship with the Sky people surrounding her, staring at her, her knife out. She looked at Klark across from her, the blonde between several other Sky people. There was strange relief in those blue eyes and it almost gave Onya hope. Had Klark wanted to be tracked down? She perhaps was glad her mate was here. Good. It might mean that should Onya have to kill these people, which she likely would need to soon, Klark would forgive her. Klark then turned to a boy who was by a device connected to the metal floor. Klark said urgently, "Jasper, now!"

The boy smacked his hand down onto the device he was in front of. As soon as he did, nothing happened. The sky people looked around, alarmed, as if they had expected something to happen. Onya narrowed her eyes. What was that device that the boy hit? Why had Klark told him to touch it?

The boy slapped his hand against the device again, and this time, something happened. A booming noise rang against the metal tube they were in, sending them, Onya included down to the floor, yelling out. Behind the metal door, Onya heard screams. Dozens and dozens of screams along with the following faint flickering of flames.

Comprehension began to flood Onya's thoughts and her anger and fury were sparked. She looked at her mate, staring in horror from the floor as Klark got up. What had her mate done?! Before she could even demand an answer of what that noise was, many fists assaulted her, kicks to her side made her bring her arms up in defense, but all for naught.

The fists and kicks suddenly stopped and Onya heard Klark's demanding voice. "Stop! Stop! We are not Grounders!"

Onya didn't understand what Klark's words meant. That was, till she remembered Linkin telling her that "Grounders" was what the Sky people called them. Onya looked up, staring at Klark with a demanding question. Both she and Klark knew that Klark stopped them from hurting her for more reasons than just a sense of being better than the Grounders. Klark knew blasted well that there was more of a reason for her sparing Onya from the other Sky people besides just the feeling of superiority.

Klark knew personally that prisoners were not harmed amongst their tribe. Well, usually they weren't. Klark certainly would not have been. But other captives would not have been harmed if they showed they were of use in time. No, superiority was not the reason why Klark did this. And they both knew it. Klark slowly lowered herself down in front of Onya, sadness in her blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Anya." Klark said. "I'm sorry for what we had to do to your people. We're just trying to survive. I'm sorry, but we have to tie you up. I'm so sorry." She got up and nodded to the others. Onya's hackles rose and she grabbed her knife slashing at the closest Sky person besides Klark, but the rain of Sky people dropped on her, restraining her arms.

Dark red straps were dragged over from the metal seats of the ship and they were tied around her wrists as she snarled at the Sky people. She could feel Klark's mournful eyes on her, but her anger kept her staring only on these wretched cowards instead of paying attention to her treacherous mate.

She would kill these people. She would kill every last one of them until Klark was the only one left. Then she would take Klark to Polis as her wife. She didn't care how much blood she had to shed. She heard one of the Sky boys sneer at her, "It's not so much fun when _you're_ the one taken captive, is it, you Grounder bitch?"

She turned to growl but was subdued by two of the sky people and pulled up around the wrists by three more. She was eventually led out of the lowered metal lip of the ship, Klark still looking at Onya worriedly. She spoke quietly to Onya, "If you can take us to your king or leader or whatever, you can tell them that we just want to live. That's all. We just want to live. And we'll be happy to live by any rules that your leader has. But we just want to live in peace." Onya stared at Klark as Klark took that time to help her up off the floor, the rest of the Sky People doing the same, lifting Onya up. Klark called over to some of her people to bring something she called "seatbelts" over.

Soon three young sky boys had dark red belts of some kind in their grasps, and one of the boys who Klark had called "Jaspa" kept a good distance from Onya, but gave the rest of the seatbelts to the other two boys, letting them wrap the belts around Onya's wrists. Onya snarled and struggled around, but her shoulders were secured by four different sky people, and her legs were caught by three others. Her wrists were soon bound tightly. Klark was staring at her pleadingly and Onya was furious with her. Klark's eyes begged for Onya's forgiveness and understanding.

The Sky people forced Onya out of their metal ship, going down the ramp. Onya heard Klark repeat, "I'm sorry" over and over again. Onya just glared ahead into the forest, seeing the burnt remains of her warriors. At least they had been burned. Their souls were released now. "Your apologies mean nothing, Klark kom Skaikru." Onya informed her mate. "It won't change that you killed 300 of my people and burned a village down." Klark snapped quietly, but Onya heard the pain in her mate's voice, "I'm so sorry about the village. But what happened here was self-defense. Please take us to your queen or king." Onya was about to tell her that she would not, when capsules of white smoke shot around them, surrounding them, the thick white smoke covering the ground where they were.

The Skaikru's gasps didn't even break Onya away from her horror. "The Mountain Men." She whispered. The Mountain Men were here and they were about to capture them. Every protective instinct Onya had instantly trounced the burning anger that Onya held for Klark. She turned to the blonde-haired young woman, eyes looking at the younger with urgency. "Klark, you must run. Don't wait for anyone else. Run and don't look back."

Klark blanched, confused. There wasn't any time for Onya to attempt to grab Klark or push the younger from the ramp and yell at her to run. In seconds, they were surrounded by plumes of white smoke and everything went black as Onya choked, trying to see her mate.

After what felt like only a second later, Onya awoke. She awoke in the most blood-chilling position that Onya could recall in her life. In a cage. Inside the mountain. She had never been told what the inside of the mountain looked like because no one had ever escaped. But there was no other explanation for where she was. The room was cavernous and dark. There were rows of cages where her people were being held. People she knew and people that had been most likely taken from many other tribes. They were put there like animals ready to be slaughtered. Anya's eyes searched the many cages for Klark, heart pounding. Was her mate here? Had Klark been captured?

Onya looked at every cage she could see. The ones next to her, the ones across from her, the ones above across from her, the ones against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Those she had to crane her neck to see. But she could not make her mate's light blonde hair out. More relief than Onya could express was her companion. Maybe Klark had escaped. Maybe she was safe from the mountain.

But Onya saw none of the Sky People here. She saw none of the cowardly children she saw in that metal ship of theirs. Had Klark and all of her people escaped? Onya knew that that was wrong. If she and her people had not escaped the Mountain Men ever, then there was no chance that all of the Sky People had escaped. So that brought the question on strongly. Where was Klark kom Skaikru?

Onya waited in her small, compact prison, barely able to move around, pulling and banging against the door when she saw some of the Mountain Men come down. One of them was a woman with dark skin, black hair and a strange, white coat over her shoulders. She was looking at each of the people in the cages, when she pointed at one of the men and spoke in gonedasleng to the armed warriors behind her, "This one!" The man in the cage instantly began to struggle in the cage, legs kicking out to try and break the door, but it didn't move. Around her, the rest of her people pulled and hit their cage walls and doors, gasping and panting, out of control. Onya banged the door of her cage, frustrated. She wanted to know what was going on. What were the Mountain Men going to do to this man?

For years and years, her people had been taken by the Mountain and turned into monsters. Or they had never been seen again. But what did the Mountain Men _do_ to her people? That was what Onya and her people wondered day and night. That question plagued many of their nightmares. Now Onya was about to see for herself.

The man was dragged by the guards to the middle of the room, before a door. The woman took a needle, similar to the one that Klark had tried to use when trying to heal Tris. This needle was much smaller and had something inside it. Something clear. The woman slid the sharp needlepoint into the man's neck, pressing something on the end of the needle and pushing up. The clear liquid inside the needle disappeared. The man being held by the guards cried out and tensed. He then collapsed against the guards holding him. The guards holding him leaned down, grabbed his legs and turned him upside down.

A gasp left Onya. She watched the man lifted like a pig about to be gutted and chains were wrapped around his ankles and suspended upwards. As exposed as he was with the short, white garments, Onya could see his most obvious marks and brands. She saw the green mark in the shape of a leaf on his leg and knew the man to be Yujleda. His arms dangled down, just inches from the grey floor. Onya watched in horror as tubes with needles attached were brought out by the guards. The tubes were attached to the wall, growing out of the walls. The woman in white took each of these needles with tubes attached and slid one needle into the soft part of the man's arm. She did the same to the other needle, pushing into to the other arm. She pulled a handle attached to the needle and to Onya grew cold when she saw the blood begin to be drawn out of the man's body.

The women went to the other needle and pulled the same handle. Blood began to rise up in the needle and through the tube. The blood in both tubes rose as if being forced out by some power.

An evil, blasphemous power. Onya felt everything inside her turn to ice. She didn't care how unlikely it was that Klark had escaped. If these people were doing this to her people, then worse would likely be done to Klark. She prayed to any god or goddess that might be listening that Klark was safe and not captured by the mountain. She knew that the gods and goddesses rarely answered anyone's prayers, but she pleaded desperately for this. That Klark had escaped and was safe. She stared as the blood flowed from one of her people, knowing with horror that she would never escape and would soon be hanging from those chains. Knowing that, all Onya could do was pray for Klark's safety and promise that if any of these Mountain Men touched her mate, she would cut them piece by piece till there were only bare bones left. She didn't care if she didn't have her weapons with her and she felt like she hadn't slept in days and days. She would use anything she got her hands on. She would kill them.

 **Author's note:**

 **Like I said, Anya lives in this, so don't worry. And it will be eventual Clanya.**


	2. Clarke's decision

**Author's Note: Wells still is alive in this. Also, I don't know if I got the order of events right in this next chapter and I don't care. I stopped watching midway in season 4. The series has just taken a nosedive for me since episode seven or something of season 3. And I don't even like Lexa. The series just got really stupid. As far as I'm concerned, seasons 1 and 2 were the only good seasons. The rest, starting with episode 5 or 6 of season 3 doesn't count. I just feel like this series has gone so downhill since then. So don't care if I have the events right or not. So I only care about seasons 1, 2 and barely the 7th episode of season 3. The series just got really dumb for me and it felt like a lot of good opportunities for good plots were missed. Sorry, bitter feelings. Seasons 3 and 4 could have been so good.**

 **Warnings for mentions of possible rape (not actually happening), but mentioned.**

 **Won't let her go-Chapter 2 Clarke's decision**

When she first saw the Grounder woman on the bridge, getting off her horse, Clarke didn't understand why her heart had been racing. It was as if everything inside of her was lit up and warm. Clarke would not deny ever that the woman was beautiful. She was gorgeous. In a frightening way. She was beautiful in the same way that a mountain lion or a tiger was. Strong. Primal. Raw. Predatory even. The tall, dirty blonde haired Grounder woman that stalked to the middle of the bridge as Clarke walked was beautiful in the exact way a predator was.

Clarke ignored that uncomfortable thought and got to the middle of the bridge. She felt a strong tugging sensation, like a rope being pulled on her, as if trying to get her closer to the older woman. She tried to ignore the tugging feeling. It was as if she was being urged closer to the older woman. She was sure it was nervousness. Fearing for her peoples' lives and there being a war about to happen.

"You are Klark?" The woman asked. Clarke answered back, "Yes." Clarke knew that the most important part of forming peace between two different cultures was showing as much respect as you could. And she'd be damned if she didn't try to give her people a chance at peace. Clarke reached her hand out to shake the woman's. When no hand was given, Clarke, dismayed, dropped her hand to her waist. Okay, well, no one said that the Grounders knew Ark etiquette she wondered if the practice of shaking hands had died out. Or maybe it was a trust thing. Clarke hoped if it was the former and not the latter that she might find out what the proper greeting was amongst Grounders.

She didn't want to be disrespectful.

The woman told Clarke her name. Anya. The tall, frightening, but alluring woman's name was Anya.

Clarke started speaking. "I think we got off on the wrong foot." She began, aware that this saying might not exist anymore in the Grounder world, but tried convey that their people wanted peace. But when she was done talking, Anya revealed something disturbing. In the eyes of the Grounders, their people were at war. Because Clarke's people burned down a village unintentionally with their flares.

Horror filled Clarke's body. Oh god. They had destroyed a whole village and killed and injured who knew how many people. Clarke quickly tried to come up with a way of interesting Anya in a possible peace treaty. Trying to point out that the majority of people on the Ark were peaceful. Doctors, farmers, workers. They had never engaged in war ever.

No, she could not promise that the rest of the Ark would not start a war with the Grounders, but she could try to get her people to cooperate with Anya's people. Just when Clarke thought that the process of a peace treaty might be possible, the sound of a gun going off made Clarke jump and a bullet shot past the bridge, hitting the trees. A Grounder holding a bow and arrow fell out of the tree branches. Clarke gaped. The agreement had been no one would accompany any of their parties.

She heard Jasper's voice yell, "Clarke, run! Grounders in the trees!" She whirled around to see Jasper, Raven and Bellamy come out of the woods, holding guns. Clarke heard the noise of blade running out of cloth, then she saw Bellamy aim his gun, heard it go off and heard slick impacting noise of some kind, followed by a pained hiss and Clarke turned to see Anya run from the scene, cradling her arm that had blood running down it. Clarke gasped. She didn't know why. But for some strange reason, seeing Anya bleeding hurt her. It felt like someone stabbed her in the chest.

A shiver ran down Clarke's back as questions started to rise. She remembered her father describing the mating bond on the Ark. That when he saw her mom get hurt, it hurt him. Immensely. It wasn't a usual emotional pain. It felt like your heart was actually being assaulted. The possibility presented itself, but Clarke ignored it. No. She was from the Ark and Anya was a Grounder. What were the chances that they were mates? There were none. Octavia had hoped to see a mark that was similar to her own on Lincoln, to tell her that Lincoln was her soulmate. But Clarke had heard Octavia's voice. Octavia had not sounded certain.

Logically and scientifically, it just wasn't likely that the Ark people had soulmates on the ground. If Clarke had a soulmate, he or she was most likely still on the Ark. The soulmate wasn't dead. If they had died then Clarke would have felt it. Clarke remembered her mother telling her that she felt her husband die when Jake had been floated. She had felt her mate die. Clarke would have felt it if her mate had been floated or had died up on the Ark while she was down here. So her mate wasn't dead yet. But it wasn't a Grounder. That made no sense.

Why would her mate be a Grounder?

But Clarke's uncertainties were only distracted by the chaos around her. They had lost any chance of forming peace between their people. Lincoln fled and Clarke, Finn and Octavia returned with Raven, Jasper and Bellamy. They knew what this day meant. It meant that war really was about to start. From now on, they truly were at war with the Grounders.

Clarke felt like she should be angry at Anya and the Grounders for violating the terms of their meeting. But after hearing about the village they had accidentally burned down, Clarke couldn't help but understand why the Grounders weren't willing to trust them, even when it came to a simple meeting. Especially if Clarke had met with one of their leaders. Clarke was grateful for Lincoln arranging the meeting. And Octavia and Finn for helping. And she was grateful to Jasper, Raven and Bellamy for following. But it had all been for naught. War was happening.

Then the Ark fell. And with it, almost everyone else.

Clarke didn't even have the chance to feel if she felt her heart died to see if her mate had perished in the crash. All she could do was weep for her mother.

When the war finally came, Clarke and her people were prepared. She had Raven make a bomb out of a can, some fuel from the remains of the Ark they found and gunpowder. Raven put a copper lid on it to make it go off. And she said all that was needed was a bullet.

Clarke didn't like the idea. It was an atomic bomb. But they had no other choice. The other option was to let the Grounders wipe them out. And then the sickness hit them. Clarke was hit first by what Murphy had brought into the camp. The others around her, Connor, Zach and a few other kids dropped quickly. They had to be confined to the dropship. Clarke told Octavia to go out and meet with Lincoln in secret, so that Octavia's brother didn't interfere. They needed answers about this sickness. And if Lincoln provided them, then they'd need those answers.

Clarke remained in the dropship with the rest of their sick. Other kids tried to run from the camp, till Clarke opened fire in the air to catch their attention and yelled at them not to leave. One of the boys almost shot her before Bellamy stopped him. He then figured out that Octavia had left. This had only proved to Clarke that they might have been doomed from the beginning. How could people who didn't even try to work together defeat a common foe?

But she and Finn didn't have time to think about that. When she eventually recovered from the sickness, a small number of their people dead from it, she, Finn and Myles went hunting. None of them wanted to risk going out after Raven planted the bomb at the bridge and Jasper and Monty delayed the attack on the Grounders by opening fire on the bomb and blowing the bridge up, but they needed food. The food house had been burnt down. Murphy claimed that some of the others did it. Clarke didn't believe his words for a second. For some reason, Bellamy did. It was all the more reason why a part of Clarke knew never to fully trust Bellamy. He was cut from the same cloth as Murphy. If he was so willing to trust someone like that, then Clarke didn't want to think about what else he might be willing to trust Murphy with.

But at the time, she knew she couldn't afford to be suspicious. None of them could. They needed as many hands for weapons as they could get. So Murphy stayed. And Clarke, Finn and Myles went out hunting that night. It led to Myles being hit with arrows and Finn being taken captive. Clarke was sent down to the ground, her vision blurring.

The last image she saw was of a group of Grounders leering down at her. One of them, she knew, even with her vision glossing over, was Anya.

When Clarke came to, she and Finn were on their sides on the ground of a filthy, secluded, dark room, several shabby pieces of tech tossed around. Clarke lifted herself, her body aching. It was when Clarke was fully up on her knees next to Finn that she realized they weren't alone. Their hands were tied in front of them, there was a young girl on her back on a table in front of them, groaning in pain, and around them were masked and armed Grounders.

Clarke felt a presence behind her and knew immediately who it was.

She was here. Anya was right behind her.

She tried to signal to Finn not to talk when he told her that he had kept track of how far the Grounders had taken them. That hardly mattered if they were going to be killed anyway, did it?

She felt the intensity of Anya's stare burning into her back. Clarke didn't know how to explain it. It wasn't hatred like it should have been. It felt like something else. Something Clarke couldn't place. It was when she heard footsteps moving around her and Finn, walking up till Anya was in Clarke's sight, staring down at her darkly, that Clarke realized that her left shoulder was exposed. Her heart raced as she stared up at Anya. Her left shoulder.

That was where her…her soulmate mark was. And Anya was looking at her shoulder now as if she could burn a hole into that shoulder. Clarke shuddered. It wasn't that. There was no way Anya was her soulmate. How did that make sense? Clarke had learned from a young age that she was sexually attracted to both boys and to girls. So she didn't care that her mate might be a woman. It just didn't make sense that it was a Grounder. She had been born on the Ark. The Grounders were here on Earth. What kind of ridiculous mistakes of fate had to be made for two souls to be bonded when they weren't even born in the right place together? It wasn't like being born in different countries.

The difference between Ark and Earth was the same as the difference between being born on the moon or Earth. There was just no sense to her mate being on Earth. Clarke self-consciously moved her left arm enough that her sleeve rolled down her shoulder.

The Grounders then gave her the ultimatum. Heal the girl on the table who was whimpering and squirming in pain, and Finn would live. Or fail to heal her and Finn would die. It turned out that the healers in Anya's tribe died in the bombing on the bridge. Clarke found that idea almost laughably ridiculous. Why send in medics with the first wave of warriors to attack people? Wasn't that just asking for your healers to be killed and left without healing? But Clarke wisely didn't say anything. These people were not those that you'd want to insult. Especially when you were at their mercy.

So Clarke and Finn helped. As much as they could with the rundown technology and equipment they had. It was frustrating and tiresome. Clarke couldn't believe that the girl on the table wasn't any older than thirteen or twelve. The Grounders really brought children this young into battle? Clarke knew not to see other cultures as ignorant or inherently violent. And despite their differences, Clarke had refused to see the Grounders as inherently more violent than her own people.

Until that moment.

Despite knowing that the bomb was what had injured the girl, Clarke knew that the girl should never have been at the fight in the first place. She hated that her idea for the bomb had severely wounded a child, but what was the child doing there in the first place? It was no less irresponsible than sending 100 children down to Earth as experiments and expecting them not to get themselves killed or cause a fight with another culture because they had no adult supervision except for a vengeful, bitter man who might as well be a criminal too. Sure, Bellamy had gotten better. But at the time, it had to have been the dumbest idea that the Jaha and his council had ever concocted.

This was no different. You just didn't send children into battle. Any more than you sent children as experiments down to a possibly hostile planet.

In the end, for all her trying, despite trying to get the poisonous blood out and trying to get new blood for the girl, both attempts were thwarted ironically by Anya, the same woman who stole her to heal the girl in the first place, the girl eventually died. Clarke watched Anya cut away a piece of the girl's hair and put it in her pocket. Clarke immediately interpreted this as a grieving ritual.

Anya barked some orders at her warriors in her language. Clarke felt instant fear for Finn when she saw two of the men grab at him and pull him to another room. There was the ultimatum. Heal the girl and Finn would live. Don't succeed in healing him and Finn dies. She hadn't succeeded. Finn was going to die.

She screamed and tried to help him, yelling at Anya to stop. But Finn was taken away and she was restrained by the other Grounders. Anya just watched her and walked away. Clarke allowed disgust to break through into her. No. Anya couldn't be her mate. War or not, that woman couldn't be her mate.

She wouldn't believe it.

She looked at the door where Finn had been pulled through. God, Finn. He was going to die.

The large warrior left with her, who had brown hair and a brown beard informed her that she would have a life in Anya's village. Clarke nodded and knew what to do. She had to escape. The best way to do that? Look like she was playing along. She grabbed a scalpel and asked about the marks on the girl's back. If the young girl had those marks, then the older man must have had dozens more. If only she could get him distracted enough…

She asked him how many "kill marks" he had. And that was the key. The man began to open up his furs to show her his back and he took his eyes off of her. Big mistake. Clarke never knew she could move as fast as she did. She slashed a tendon in his leg, bringing him down to her level, and she slashed his throat. When he went down to the floor, she wrapped her hand over his mouth and nose. She stared into his dark eyes, watching as the light slowly left them. Each moment spent watching this was like a fist to her heart.

She didn't want to live like this. She didn't want to kill people. She wished there had been another way of escaping from this Grounder, but she knew there wasn't. And her people were in danger. There was no time for mercy.

She hated this, but she had to do it.

As soon as she felt no struggle from the man below her, Clarke removed both her hands from his now corpse. She stared at him and ran then from the room, going into the darkened forest. She was barely only a few miles from the place where she and Finn had been taken, when something snagged her around the ankle and she went shooting up in the air. She gasped out as the world spun. Maybe it was the blood suddenly rushing to her head or maybe it was something the Grounders did to her, but suddenly, Clarke just found the world going black.

When she came to, she was captured again. Her hands were chained and there was a warm, crackling fire next to her. Across from her, making Clarke jump, was Anya, staring at her. Clarke on impulse jumped up and tried to get away, but was restrained by the chains. Clarke stared at Anya's eyes, heart racing. It might have just been her imagination, but she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of pain in Anya's eyes when she had tried to get away from the fire. Clarke instantly dismissed that thought. Anya was a monster. She was going to kill all her people. She was going to wipe out all her people without trying to understand them. Everything she and her people from now on did was self-defense.

Anya got up from her crouching position by the fire and circled around the fire, getting closer to Clarke, much to Clarke's fear and horror. Clarke tried to squirm away, but to no avail. The chains were bolted into the earth. She wasn't going anywhere. Anya leaned down and grabbed at Clarke's side, pulling her jacket back.

Clarke gasped, fear clogging her throat, tears fighting their way to her eyes. She had been expecting Anya to pull a knife out on her or something. But this? This was horrifying on another level.

True, rape was something that happened in all wars. But Clarke had thought that a woman at least wouldn't allow such a thing, let alone do it herself. Clarke struggled, fear overwhelming, feeling the tears start to sting her eyes when Anya stepped away suddenly. Clarke looked up at her, startled. Had Anya changed her mind? Anya's eyes were at Clarke's shoulder again. Clarke turned to her left shoulder where her green soulmate mark was.

She saw Anya's hands move and watched as Anya removed her jacket and pulled down the left side of her sleeve and shirt, turning her body and revealing a fat, green "V" to Clarke.

Clarke's heart felt like it was ripping. It was true. Anya _was_ her soulmate. Anya put her shirt and jacket back on.

Anya scanned Clarke's face for a few seconds. She spoke calmly, "You knew?"

Clarke shook her head. "I didn't know." She hadn't even thought it possible that she was Anya's mate. But she had thought of it as a brief possibility. She acknowledged this. "But I suspected."

"You suspected?" Anya's voice sounded affronted. "And you _still_ tried to run away?"

Clarke flinched at Anya's tone and looked at the Grounder. It was hard to tell, maybe even impossible, but Clarke could have sworn she saw a glint of betrayal in Anya's eyes. Clarke tried not to feel too much like a traitor. This was a war and she had a responsibility to her people. Even if her mate was on the opposite side of the battlefield.

"I had to warn my people." Clarke defended herself. "I had to get them away. You'd do the same for yours if it was the other way around." This was the wrong thing to say, because Anya's eyes hardened with pain. "It _was_ the other way around, Klark. There was a village that your people wiped out with your missiles. Your people burned down a village. I would have saved them if I could. But it was too late." Clarke winced. A whole village. Full of people. Men, women and children. And they had burned it down. Even if it was an accident, how could they ever make up for it?

Clarke knew her next words were worthless. "I'm sorry, Anya. We didn't know. I swear, it was an accident." What good did that do? It didn't change that they had still had probably killed hundreds of people. People committed accidental crimes all the time. it didn't make it right or excusable.

Anya's voice made Clarke pay attention again. "Accident or not, your people will not harm any of ours again. And you will come with us." Anya's words set off fear in Clarke's brain. She might never see her people again if she didn't get away. Even if it was the last time she saw them, then she wanted to face the Grounders with them, even if she died with them.

"No, Anya." Clarke said, trying to appeal to the Grounder, sure that her mate, as a Grounder who likely had been a warrior for a long time and knew a lot about comrades in arms. "I have to go back to my camp. If my people are under attack, then let me fight with them."

To Clarke's dismay, Anya shook her head, covering her shoulder with her jacket again. "I will not. You are to stay here. You will be one of our people. You will be a Trikru warrior in time. But I cannot let you go back to the Sky people. When we are done with the battle, we will speak about your place in this tribe. But for now you will remain here." Clarke whimpered, struggling against the chains. "No." She hissed. Did Anya really think that if she killed off her people they would ever have a relationship? Clarke didn't care what Anya did. Anya would never be able to make up for murdering her people.

Anya spoke in her language to some of her people. They spoke to her in confirmation and the galloping of a horse caught Clarke's attention, making her jump when she saw a tall, muscled, bald-headed man covered in fur garments jump from his horse, glaring at her, and turned to Anya. He said something to Anya in their language that Clarke didn't understand. Whatever the two were saying, neither of them sounded happy. The man glared at Clarke again, then stormed away. Anya turned to Clarke slowly and Clarke found another shiver run through her. This time it wasn't over the possibility of rape. But it wasn't that far from it. Did Anya think after everything happened that Clarke eventually would fall into bed with her? The Grounder was out of her mind.

Anya got closer and spoke again. "I'll keep you safe. And I will give you a home with my people. I promise you."

Clarke felt mildly sick. God, Anya meant it. She really thought there would be anything between them after this. "Please." Clarke pleaded with her, hoping that Anya would try to listen to her mate, "I need to go back home." Anya shook her head. "You _are_ home." Clarke tried to struggle again, those last words sending a jolt of panic through her. She was not going to escape. Her people were going to be butchered. Wiped out, and she would never see them again. And she was just going to be expected to accept it and move on with a new tribe? These people were more insane than they were violent.

Someone new drew up on horseback. It was a large man with fur covering him. A mask over his face. Anya spoke to him in their language. The man then walked to Clarke, making her back up against the chains, still unable to get anywhere. The man leaned down and used a key to unlock her shackles and dragged her as she struggled. He dragged her in his arms to the horse, lifting her up and getting up on the horse, straddling it, holding her close against him. Clarke struggled and sent a terrified glance at Anya who was still watching her. She knew that she wasn't about to be sent off to her death. She didn't know what this man was going to do to her, but Anya had obviously sent her with him to watch her.

Clarke's vision was forced back around as the horse took off running, tearing through the night. Clarke realized she must have been more exhausted than she had estimated, because she found herself falling asleep against the man's chest. It didn't matter that she didn't want to let her guard down around an enemy. She was just too tired. She didn't know how long they had been riding for, because the ride was over in almost a flash. She was shaken awake when they arrived at their destination and pulled off the horse. To her shock and unimaginable joy, it was Finn in front of her. The man that had taken her up on horseback and carried her here? It was Lincoln.

Lincoln had stolen someone's clothes and pretended to be someone he wasn't to save her. A funny cliché from movies turned out to be very effective in real life.

Wait till she told Bellamy, Jasper, Monty, Octavia and Raven if they all survived this. They'd have plenty of stories to share.

The thought of her friends made the fear and worry eat her alive. She had to get to them. Lincoln showed them a tunnel. They went through it with Anya and Anya's people on their tails.

She heard Anya call after them and Clarke tried to ignore the hurt in her, hearing her mate's voice. This couldn't happen. Whatever their bond, they couldn't be together. Not after this. Clarke tried not to think about that as she ran with Finn and Lincoln. She had to remain at task and only protect her people now. She couldn't think about the danger her mate might be in or if there was any possibility of her and Anya being together.

They reached camp and the battle started. It turned out that Bellamy and Jasper had almost been killed by Murphy who surprise, surprise, had been lying to them all along and killed Myles. He probably killed a few others too. Clarke didn't say anything to anyone, especially not Bellamy, because no one wanted to hear it and Clarke sure didn't want to say it, but there was a phrase that went like, "I told you so." But now wasn't the time for that. And to make things even worse, Raven had been shot. Clarke could just feel the fear and terror hitting her tremendously. Her fear for Raven's life and wellbeing, the fear that their best mechanic wouldn't be able to help them, the fear that Raven would die. She was walked through what to hook up and wire through a communication device that Raven gave her. Raven talked to her and told her how to do it. It was difficult, but Clarke managed it. It was a surprise to do it, since she had been fearing for Raven's safety the whole time. Questions running through her head the whole time. How close was that bullet to Raven's spine? How close was it to Raven's heart? Was Raven's wound going to be infected?

But she knew she couldn't think about that right now. She had to help make the ring of fire.

The only blessing had been that Wells hadn't been hurt.

That was when even more went to hell. There was shooting and the Grounders started attacking. In the madness, Finn and Clarke, in the madness, got separated from the others. They found some bodies and carts. And these strange creatures…eating other bodies. They looked like people, but they didn't act like it.

Finn came up with an insane idea involving the cannibalistic people they found.

So Finn came up with a crazy, but brilliant idea of leading these cannibals to the battlefront where the Grounders would be attacking. It was risky, just as much as Clarke's ring of fire idea was, but it was what had to be done if they wanted to survive.

They ran with the cannibals in tow and reached the camp. The cannibals attacked the Grounders while the Grounders attacked their people. During the madness, Clarke tried to pull as many of her people to the dropship's safety as she could, but Wells grabbed her and told her that she couldn't save everyone. So Wells dragged her into the ship and Clarke looked around, frantic. She told herself she didn't know why, but deep down she knew. She was looking for Anya in hopes of seeing where she was before the ring of fire went off. She wanted to know for sure that Anya would be safe.

She didn't see Anya and Clarke tried to ignore the pain in her chest. When she and Wells got into the ship, she heard metal scuffing up along the outside of the platform, then seeing Anya spill down over the edge, into the dropship's holding, and stood in front of them, holding a knife and breathing in and out raggedly. Clarke's heart pounded as she met Anya's eyes. Such relief hit her. Anya was inside. She wouldn't be killed by the ring of fire. She turned to Jasper who had dropped down to the floor of the dropship next to the button leading to the fuel charge. "Now, Jasper!" She ordered. Jasper lifted his hand and brought it down on the button. They froze when they didn't hear anything. She looked at Wells who now was paling. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Um, Clarke?" Wells asked nervously. Clarke nodded. She looked back at Anya who was starting to inch close to one of the delinquents, lifting up her knife. Panic grew inside Clarke. She yelled at Raven down below that the wires needed to be crossed or something. She hoped Raven heard her and yelled at Jasper to hit the button again. He did it again. This time there was a result. A loud, tremendous boom filled the silence outside, the whole dropship shaking with vibrations. Clarke yelped and heard everyone else yell and gasp in protest. When the dropship came to a stop in its shaking, Clarke looked at Anya, shivering at Anya's confusion. Anya didn't know it, but it was likely that most of her people were dead.

Clarke felt like the worst person in the world. She had gotten dozens and dozens of Grounders killed. And probably twenty or something of her own people killed. Was this what it meant to be a leader? To commit mass murder in the name of survival?

All at once, the other delinquents charged Anya and attacked her, all punching and kicking and screaming. Anya snarled and slashed at them. Clarke went over to them fast, getting between them as they threw Anya to the floor. She couldn't let them hurt Anya. She was certain that she would have stopped them even if Anya wasn't her mate, since she didn't want them to hurt anyone else than they had to. But Anya being her mate, she knew was the real reason.

With some words of lecturing that Clarke herself didn't even believe, since they were just as bad as the Grounders by now, she got them to calm down. She eventually got them to take the seatbelts from the dropship and use them as restraints. They tied up Anya's hands in front of her and held her in place. Clarke felt like crying the whole time she watched the other kids tying Anya up and seeing Anya glare at her.

The only words that were moving through Clarke's head were a repeat of _'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'_

Nothing she could say or do would heal this wound she had caused Anya, and she knew it. But she knew, had probably known since the moment she saw that horrible soulmate mark on Anya's shoulder that this was going to be how it would end up. With one of them hating the other. Or them hating each other.

Because how could it end up any other way? They were on different sides in a war. There were only a few ways that could end. And none of them ended well.

With Anya out in front of them, Clarke and her friends led the Grounder out of the dropship on the platform. They walked down the ramp to the ground where all the burnt and charred bodies were laid out across the destroyed circle. There was a burned outline around all the bodies. Clarke stared at the bodies mournfully. This wasn't how she wanted this to end. But here they were. She kept quietly apologizing to Anya for what happened. Anya growled coldly that her apologies meant nothing. That they wouldn't make up for the village burnt down or for her warriors' deaths.

Clarke felt the pangs of sorrow, not blaming Anya.

She told Anya that she was sorry about the village. But the ring of fire? That was self-defense. She hated it. But it was self-defense.

She was trying to get Anya to take them to their king or queen or whoever the Grounder leader was, when things fired past them, landing on the ground, white smoke shooting out of the projectiles. They gasped, looking around as the white smoke rose around them. Clarke gaped. What was happening? "The Mountain Men." Anya's voice caught Clarke's attention and the words were strange. Mountain Men? She asked what Anya meant, wondering why Anya's voice sounded like the frightening Grounder was almost afraid.

If the Grounder that would have taken down a whole mess of people to get to Clarke was afraid, then that was cause for worry.

Anya turned to Clarke and told her to run and not to look back. The confusion was overwhelming for Clarke, when more smoke bombs hit, the smoke taking them up in its grasp. Clarke felt her world turning black again. She tried not to groan. She was being captured again?

She looked through the smoke, waving her hands through it, trying to see Anya or Wells or Finn or Bellamy. She couldn't see any of them. She knew Finn and Bellamy had run out of the dropship, but on an off chance that the two of them had come back, she looked. She saw no one past the clouds of smoke overtaking them.

When Clarke came to, her head sang with exhaustion and pain. She groaned, getting up and finding her surroundings terrifying. There were white walls, a few paintings, a smooth, white floor and a white door with a glass circle at the top for a window. And Clarke found a too clean white hospital gown on her body. Clarke tried to understand what happened. They had been attacked. At the camp.

Anya, Wells and the others…where were they?

Clarke went to the door, heart hammering in her chest. She looked out the window. She just saw too clean white walls and a white floor. She shivered. This felt like a nightmare. It was too clean for the ground and even too clean for the Ark. Clarke tried to get a better look at the hall outside, but she couldn't see anything beyond the walls that bordered the sides of the hall. Clarke reached and grabbed the silver handle of the door, pulling. The door didn't move. It didn't even move an inch. Clarke's breath hitched. What was happening here? The most Clarke knew about the Grounders was that they would never have floors or halls or rooms like this one. Everything in this room felt like the antithesis to everything that the Grounders were. If she had woken up in a Grounder's camp, Anya's mate or not, she would have been afraid. But this? This wasn't fear inducing. This was terrifying. Who had her here? She remembered what Anya said back at the dropship. "Mountain Men." Was that who had her? Where were her people? Where was Anya?

It was when Clarke saw a person in a white hazmat suit that Clarke made up her mind about what she was going to do. She felt the needle in her arm, like a stabbing tumor. She went off to the corner of her room, pulling the IV and its rolling, metal stand with her. Her hand went to her IV needle and pulled it out when the door opened. The person in the hazmat suit came through. As soon as the person in the suit was distracted, Clarke lunged. It was a girl inside the suit. A frightened, dark-skinned, black-haired girl. Clarke threatened her with a needle and got the girl and herself to an elevator and reached a whole hall of people gathered and eating. When they saw Clarke, there was screaming and panicking.

All the while, Clarke tried to search for Anya in the crowds of screaming, running, panicking people. She saw no sign of the tall figure or the dirty blonde hair or the fur clothing. Clarke was ashamed of it, but she looked for any sign of Anya before trying to see if she could identify any of her people. But she found none of them.

After being contained by guards, she was brought to the peoples' leader of sorts. The president or chancellor. Dante Wallace. Dante Wallace was a kindly appearing elderly man. Polite and understanding. He was one of those types of people who might as well have had a sign on him that said, "I really want you to believe that I'm a genuinely good, harmless person. So I'll pretend that I am." But you wouldn't know it. Clarke wanted to believe that this man's kind and gentle persona was real when he showed her to her friends, all of them hugging her when they saw her. Wells, Jasper, Monty, Miller, Harper, Fox, many others. They were all here and all safe.

Clarke wanted to believe Wallace's words when she met with him in his painting room. She wanted to believe that he would protect them. But she just couldn't believe it. Something about this was just too good to be true. And it was just a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. This man and his people wanted something from her people. But the only question was, what was it? She later learned that these people had to live below ground. They would die from exposure to the air. They had been driven underground by the other Grounders and after generations had their cells had degenerated. And the Mountain Men were now susceptible to dying as soon as they stepped out of the mountain.

While she acknowledged that that made sense as to why they had never seen the mountain men before, it still left two questions for Clarke. Anya had spoken the mountain men's name with fear and dread. Why? And where was Anya? If the Mountain Men had taken them all, where was Anya?

Clarke carefully asked where the blonde Grounder woman was, and Dante Wallace had smiled, assuring her that they had just left Anya at the dropship.

Clarke wasn't sure she believed him. And if any of the mountain men even pulled back some of their sleeves, they would find her soulmate mark and Anya's soulmate mark. They would know what their connection was. But she knew she had to play this smart if she wanted to know for sure her people were safe and find out where Anya was.

Anya couldn't be dead, because if everything other people told her who had lost their mates was true, then Clarke would _feel_ it if Anya died. It would be like her heart was being ripped out, only her entire body would feel it intensely. She told herself, hoping she was right, that that was enough reason to believe that Anya was alive. And if she was right that these people couldn't be trusted and might have Anya somewhere, that meant that she needed to find the Grounder woman.

She played along. She decided to pretend she was okay with this arrangement, even though she didn't feel any trust for them at all. She stayed with her friends, trying to find any means of escaping. She stole the keycard of the black-haired mountain girl that had come into her room with that hazmat suit. The girl's name was Maya. She stole Maya's keycard and tried to open the door. Maya almost shot her. Jasper got her to calm down and got Clarke not to open the door, reminding her that everyone would die in the mountain if she opened the door and promising Clarke that they were safe. Clarke didn't believe it. But she had seen how many children were in that hall room.

There were so many. Could she really risk killing them all?

So she didn't. After that quieted down and all three Clarke, Maya and Jasper got back to the main rooms, Jasper told her to stop acting like that. Clarke could deal with what she was being told that. They really were letting their guard down? After everything?

She thought they trusted her more. And Finn, Bellamy and the others and the rest of their people from the Ark were still out there. How could they be so calm? Just when Clarke was about to give up, and assume that she was just acting irrational because she didn't know where her mate was, she found a paper with the outline of all the floors of the mountain. There was a hidden compartment down below. Clarke looked at the paper and studied it. She didn't understand it, but knew deep down that she had to find it.

When a guard was brought in, Lancaster, he was injured and Clarke saw a wounded body with a hole in his chest.

They told her that the hole had been made by the Grounders. They had been fighting the Grounders. The only problem with this? The Grounders didn't use guns. And Clarke knew the difference by now between bullet wounds and arrow wounds.

That man was shot by no arrow. So what were these people hiding?

By process of elimination, these people were attacking her people.

Her people were the only ones using guns.

Clarke knew her people unfortunately would not listen to her. Wells had actually come to believe these peoples' lies. He looked just as blissfully happy as Jasper, Monty, Miller and the others did. So she knew she was on her own here.

She took the paper with the outline of the mountain and went to her bunk. She knew the rules. Only those sick or injured could go to the med bay. And the med bay was just next to the confined, hidden part of the mountain. Clarke never otherwise would do this. But she had to know what was going on. She pulled off her bandages and banged her wound against the sharp end of the bunk bed, ripping the wound right open again. She hissed at the pain, the blood spilling out.

She was found a few minutes later by guards who brought her to the med bay. After Clarke's arm had been patched up, her feeding these guards and Dante who had come to see her, that the wound had itched and she had scratched at it too much. She could see the unbelieving gaze in Dante's stare, but they didn't dig into the subject. After the guards and Dante had all left, Clarke pulled the IV out of her arm, thankful that she had a bandage on her arm. She got close to Lancaster's bed and shook him. She spoke to him. But the man wasn't moving. She saw the tubes attached to the syringes that stuck in the man. The tubes were going up and went into the wall.

There was blood in these tubes. Pumping into Lancaster.

Clarke felt a chill. Where was this blood coming from? _Who_ was it from?

Clarke felt incredibly nervous. If this blood was to help heal Lancaster after being injured, why did the other person who was giving the blood need to be in an entirely different room? Clarke went to the doors and tried to pull. But they wouldn't open. They needed a keycard. And she didn't have one. She almost growled in frustration. Great. So she was at the med bay, but what now? Clarke looked around, trying to find any place she could get over to the next room. She found the vent. It was a large, round, metal vent. Clarke knew that she was probably going to regret what she found, but she had to do this.

If there was a possibility that her people were in danger, then she had to do this.

Clarke got up on the shelves and grabbed the rim of the vent's door. She pushed and pulled and shook it till she finally felt the door of the vent loosen up. Without waiting longer, Clarke pulled the door of the vent off the vent's opening. She brought the heavy door down to the ground and let it slide flat to the floor. She climbed up to the vent and started crawling down it, ignoring the pain in her arm and trying to fight her unease at crawling through a dark and confined space.

It seemed like years when Clarke reached the other end of the vent, straight on to the next room. Clarke only saw blue and dark lights spilling out from the vents. Clarke crawled closer and reached the vent's door. She hoped she could open the vent from this side. She grabbed the flat bars of the vent and started jerking the vent door around. Eventually, the vent door came loose. She pushed the vent down onto the floor and she crawled right out of the vent. She breathed out heavily, relieved that she finally got out of the vent. She stiffly got on her feet and walked halfway through a cool room, seeing a set of plastic tubes running out of the wall, full of blood. Clarke's gaze followed the length of the tubes till she found who the tubes were attached to. Two people hanged upside down. A man and a woman. Both black-haired. They had skin tight, white two piece cloth pieces. There were black tattoos on their bodies.

Clarke knew instantly when she saw the marks, kill marks and the tattoos that these people were Grounders.

Her heart pounded and her insides felt cold. The Mountain Men were taking blood from Grounders? Why? She shivered. This blood was being taken against these peoples' wills. The Grounders had tried to kill her people many times, but this blood was being taken forcefully. That was sickening.

She heard banging noises and heard coughs and groans behind her. Clarke turned around to see the source of all these sounds. What she saw made a sheet of ice encase her heart in terror. What she saw were towering stacks of metal cages. In every cage was a person. Clarke knew they were Grounders. They were on the floors of the cages or leaning against the walls, as if too exhausted to sit upright. Clarke's horror was heart stopping. The Mountain Men couldn't be trusted. They were dangerous. If they did this to the Grounders, then what would they do to her people? People who had even more exposure to sun by being from space? What was going to be done to _her_ people? But there was one question in her mind during all this horror and fear. If these people were all Grounders, was Anya here?

Slowly and feeling no eagerness to explore any of the room at all, Clarke forced her body to move closer to the cages, walking between the rows. She looked at every cage, pulling away when arms reached for her. She heard groans of "Fisa!" She wanted to free these people. Despite her peoples' history with them, they didn't deserve to be locked up like this. They weren't animals, even if most of her people thought they were. She checked the cages again. Where was she? She tried to find any sign. Dirty blonde hair, dark skin, high cheekbones, narrow eyes.

It was when she saw the crouching Grounder in a lower cage with dirty blonde hair that she stopped and kneeled down instantly. Her heart raced when she saw the weak looking, tired face of her mate. "Anya….."

Anya's eyes widened when she saw Clarke. "Klark." Anya groaned out, voice sounding hoarse. Clarke winced. Had they given Anya any water? Or did they just give them a few scraps of food to eat and some bottle of water when they needed to? Clarke's heart hurt thinking about Anya in here, imprisoned like an animal, starved and controlled. She wished Wallace was here so she could hurt him for Anya's weakened state.

Clarke looked around for something, anything she could break the lock on Anya's cage with. She had to get the door open, she had to get to Anya. To hold her. She found a metal rod locked on the wall, between two metal hinges. She moved away from the cage, trying not to whimper at seeing Anya reaching her hands through the bars of the cage, trying to grab at her. She couldn't stand seeing Anya like this. She went over to it, hearing a dismayed grunt behind her from Anya and grabbed the metal rod, pulling it loose. She brought it over to Anya's cage and stuck one end into the loop of the lock's bar, pushing down till the lock broke off and fell to the floor. Clarke moved and tossed the bar behind the cages, going to the door and opening it, letting Anya climb out.

Clarke felt her arm get grabbed in a powerful grip, surprisingly powerful for a Grounder who had been kept in a cage and exhausted for the past week or so. Clarke looked down at Anya, taking in the tired possessiveness in Anya's eyes when the Grounder stared up at her. Clarke nodded, understanding. If Anya had been possessive of her before after Clarke ran away from Anya's warriors or when she was taken back to her camp by Lincoln, then she probably was never letting her go now. Clarke understood why Anya spoke with such fear in her voice of the Mountain Men. So seeing Clarke here, must not have been good for Anya.

Clarke heard the door open up and she whispered quietly to Anya, eyes wide, "Get back into the cage!" Anya went back in and Clarke followed her, closing the door. She peered out as the doctor, "Tsing" walked into the room and looked at something. The woman then walked between the rows of cages, but thankfully turned around and walked out.

Clarke breathed out in relief, turning to Anya when the door closed. She was about to tell the older that they needed to get out, when a forceful tug pulled Clarke into Anya. Clarke gasped when she felt the warmth from the other woman flush against her. Clarke gasped against the warm, sweaty flesh of the older woman. She felt Anya's arms wrap around her tightly. Anya's grasp had to be a lot weaker than it probably was a week ago, but it still felt strong. Clarke sighed sadly, understanding.

This was probably the most affection Anya had shown to anyone outside of family or good friends in a while. Clarke hugged herself against Anya, arms wrapping around Anya's abdomen. "I missed you too." She said quietly to Anya.

She absolutely had been worried about the older too.

She lifted her head and moved back, Anya loosening her hold. They had to get out and get back to Clarke's people. Try to warn them. Clarke opened the door of Anya's cage, the two of them weakly and slowly getting out. The only question was how did they get out?

Clarke made a decision then. About the Grounders. It wasn't just about her being with Anya. It was about all of their people. Her people and Anya's. They were all being targeted by the Mountain Men. They were all their victims. So Clarke made a decision. She would ally her people with the Grounders. She knew they wouldn't like it. But what other choice did Clarke have? The people with her in the mountain weren't going to listen. Wells, Jasper, Miller and the others made that obvious. She loved them, but if they didn't listen then they couldn't help. So she had to make an alliance with the Grounders herself. Maybe they could help each other.


	3. Their losses, their love

**Warnings for mentions of past suicides and violence.**

 **Won't let her go**

 **Chapter 3-Their losses, their love**

 **Mount Weather**

When Clarke was sure that Dr. Tsing was gone, she pushed the cage door open and climbed out, hand in Anya's, the two of them coming out together. She could feel Anya's exhaustion when Anya sagged against her, trying to hold herself up. Clarke held the older woman tightly, burying her face in the older woman's dirty blonde hair. "It's okay, Anya. It's okay. I'm here." Anya was drained and weak, but still, she clung to Clarke like the girl was her lifeline. Like losing her would end her life. For all Clarke knew, maybe losing her would. She had heard of those that lost their soulmates on the Ark. They usually committed suicide after the loss of their mates, unless they had a child to hold onto.

The thought of losing Anya made her hands squeeze around Anya harder. She wasn't going to lose Anya. She wasn't. She dragged Anya through the hall of different cages. She saw how Anya looked at the cages, wanting to open the cages. She whispered to Anya urgently, "We can get them out later. But we have to get out first. We won't be any use to them dead.

They limped over to the door across from the cages, getting in and turning around when the door slid shut and Clarke heard it lock. When they heard alarms go off, Clarke froze, and Anya held her tighter. "What is that?" Anya asked, looking at Clarke as if she was afraid something would come jumping out and separate her from her mate. Clarke shook her head, admitting she had no idea. What did that alarm mean? "I don't-" She said, then the floor collapsed beneath them. A dark shaft was all Clarke saw as she and Anya tumbled down.

Clarke panicked, afraid she and Anya would be separated. But just when she feared that, she and Anya came in contact with a smooth metal platform, sliding down, collapsing into a mass below them in a large container. Clarke's head and body first met a soft but firm lump below her and she groaned at the impact. She shook herself up after that, hearing Anya grunt when she landed next to her. Clarke got up, trying to get a look at what she and Anya had collapsed on. A sharp gasp came out of her mouth when she saw the bodies that surrounded her and Anya.

"Oh god…." She whispered. Grounders. Dead Grounders covering the bottom of this large dumpster they were in. All wearing the same outfits that Anya was wearing.

All of them, Clarke gathered, drained of their blood and used by the Mountain Men.

She heard Anya's gasps and horrified reactions and knew what the effects of Anya seeing her people like this were. She turned to Anya, who was touching her people, cupping their faces, trying to look at them and see if any of them were moving at all. The look on Anya's face broke Clarke's heart. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was twisted in a horrified, open-mouthed grimace. Clarke shuddered, closing her eyes. Anya's pain was as painful as any physical injury.

She hated seeing Anya in this much pain.

"Anya, come on," Clarke said, "We can't help anyone if we're caught. Please."

She laid a hand on Anya's left arm and pulled at her. "Please, let's go." She heard an agonized hiss from Anya. But Anya eventually ripped away from her people and crawled with Clarke out of the metal container they had dropped into. They moved away from it, Clarke helping Anya up against her body, helping her along. There was grunting above from the shaft, making both women gasp. There was a cracking noise, then the shuffling noise from the shaft became louder and suddenly a heap of people came crashing down from the shaft into the dumpster.

Clarke hissed, pulling Anya away, who was too stunned by the sight to move. When the men and women dropped into the dumpster, Anya stepped closer, looking at them. One of the men moved, groaning beneath the rest of the heap. To Clarke's horror, he was not able to move much past his head. It wasn't being under this many people that was the problem. It was apparently because of how much blood he had lost. Clarke could see this because of the many needle marks all over the man's arms and legs and how pale the man was.

She felt bile in her throat. Oh god…

How could the Mountain Men do things like this?

Anya stepped closer and raised her hands to the man's head. Clarke watched in horror and fascination as Anya snapped the man's neck, mumbling to him something in Trigedasleng that she didn't understand.

She stepped closer to the older, knowing that Anya did what was best. The man was suffering and most likely wouldn't survive for the next few hours. This had been the merciful thing to do. "Anya," Clarke pleaded, "Come on. We have to go. If the Mountain Men find us, they'll catch us. Please. I don't want to lose you." Those last words snapped Anya out of her grieving and she turned to Clarke, dark eyes taking Clarke in.

As if just remembering that Clarke was still here, Anya lunged and embraced Clarke closely. Clarke wrapped her arms around Anya's shoulders, burying her face in Anya's neck, breathing the older woman's scent in. Anya hadn't bathed in days because of her captivity, but Clarke didn't care. Despite the stink, she just needed to keep Anya close.

There was yelling of men from the opposite hall. Clarke and Anya jumped and turned around, seeing Mountain Men coming out with suits and armed.

Clarke realized when she saw the suits that there must have been an opening somewhere around this cave that was letting in air. An escape route. But for now, these men were coming for them. Clarke pulled away from Anya, hoping to draw their attention and that they wouldn't notice Anya.

"Hey!" She snapped, glaring at them. The men zeroed in on her instantly and raised their guns to her, surrounding her, their backs turned to Anya.

Clarke's relief almost made her faint. At least the Mountain Men wouldn't catch Anya again. When she heard one of the men speak, she gasped, seeing a figure, Anya's figure leap up from the ground, hitting one of the Mountain Men, grabbing his gun and hitting him with the butt of it in the face. The man collapsed, groaning. Anya turned to the other two, startled men and slammed the butt of the gun into the first man and tossed him into the last man.

As the second man went unconscious from Anya's blow to his head with the gun, the last man was pinned under the second man and Anya slammed the butt of the gun down on the man's masked face, a crack filling Clarke's ears and the man went prone. Anya tossed the gun away, turning to Clarke, face fierce, teeth bared. Clarke tried not to shiver at Anya's expression. That expression read easily as "you're not getting away from me that easily."

Anya leaned down and grabbed the suits, ripping at them, the flesh instantly starting to bubble and blister. She stepped back, not expecting that. Her eyebrows narrowed and she looked up at Clarke questioningly. Clarke realized that Anya hadn't known about the "can't live in the outside world" thing. "I thought you knew." Clarke said, surprised, "They can't live outside of the mountain's air. I thought you knew that. That's why they always have masks and suits on outside of the mountain."

Anya looked at Clarke, shocked. Obviously, she hadn't known this.

Anya broke out of her shock and leaned down, grabbing the slowly dying Mountain Men's clothes under their suits, ripping at their jackets and vests. Clarke wasn't sure what Anya was doing at first, but when she saw Anya take off a few of their jackets and shirts, not that much blood yet slicking on the pieces of clothing, Clarke realized that Anya was getting them clothing to cover Anya's practically nude body and Clarke's hospital gown wearing figure.

Clarke leaned down to help Anya, grimacing at the bloody sores and blisters expanding more and more with the longer exposure time to the air.

Anya looked at Clarke, watching Clarke's every move. Clarke sighed as she got one of the man's pants off. Thankfully he was wearing boxers. Boxers that were now getting soaked with blood. She knew that Anya was not going to let her out of her sight anytime soon. She might as well get used to the close surveillance for now. When both Clarke and Anya had dressed themselves in the men's clothing that was a little too big for them, Anya grabbed Clarke's left hand in her right one and pulled her through the cave's hallways.

Clarke went along quickly and the reached the lip of a cave, a gasp leaving Clarke when she saw the huge waterfall below them. She heard Anya gasp next to her, letting her know that Anya was just as surprised by this as she was. There were growls roaring up behind them. They turned around and Clarke's heart stopped when she saw those _things_ again. It was those Grounders that weren't really Grounders. Those Grounders that fed on peoples' flesh and almost killed them at the dropship.

They heading right for them.

"Klark." Anya's voice was urgent and Clarke turned to the dark-eyed woman who was staring at her with hidden terror in those eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Clarke stared at Anya. The question should have made her suspicious. But it didn't. Did she trust Anya with her people? No. Anya would kill her people first chance she got if she thought they were a threat to her people. But her? Her life? She knew that her life was safe with Anya. She nodded without a thought. She was safe with Anya and she knew it. Despite everything they had done to each other, she knew Anya wouldn't hurt her.

"I trust you." She told Anya. Anya looked surprised by Clarke's answer, but she then nodded to the snarling non-Grounders.

She walked to the edge of the ground above the waterfall and nodded with urgency. Clarke's eyes widened. Anya was saying that they should-?

Clarke tensed when she heard the snarling getting closer. Then again, they might not have a choice. It was either jump, or stay here and risk getting ripped apart and eaten alive. Neither possibility was a pretty one, especially since Clarke didn't know how to swim, but Clarke would rather risk drowning or getting her head bashed in on a rock than getting ripped apart and eaten.

Almost at the same time, Clarke and Anya jumped from the edge of the cliff, leaping down into the waterfall's depths.

They never let go of each other's hand, holding onto each other like their grasp was a lifeline.

The fall was troublingly quick and the impact of the water painful. The cold water pelted their skin like bullets and Clarke hissed before she could help it, mouth open and water getting into her mouth and nose. The agony of the water rushing into felt like it was going to drag her down to the bottom of the water on its own. She couldn't even lift her arms to swim, till she felt something grab her around the waist and lift her.

Before she knew it, Clarke's head broke the surface of the water and sweet air hit her. She gasped, feeling the water still stuck in her throat and lungs. She was dragged to the shore and brought forward, her body being forced downwards, face and chest on the stone covered ground and felt slapping against her back. She coughed out water onto the smooth rocks, gasping as she spewed out the last of the water.

Her terror and pain starting to fade, it occurred to Clarke what had happened. Anya had pulled her out and made sure she didn't drown.

Clarke smiled, relief flooding her and she turned slowly around to Anya, about to thank her when her hands were grabbed and she was forced around, her wrists being forced together as Anya pulled out some of the leather straps the woman had taken off the mountain men from their uniforms, wrapping the end of the straps around Clarke's wrists, binding them together. "The hell?" Clarke demanded, gaping. She looked up at Anya, heart in her throat now. "Anya, what the hell are you doing?" Anya stared at her coldly, "Do you think me that stupid, girl?" Anya asked, "You run every chance you get. This is a precaution. You won't be able to get away now. You're coming back with me to Polis. You will be my wife. And you won't run away again."

Clarke groaned before she could help it. Really, Anya was getting worked up over that? Sure, she had left Anya two times, but those were different circumstances.

"We were at war and you weren't letting me warn my people." Clarke snapped, but she wisely didn't try to resist Anya tying her up, "Both of our peoples are being hunted by the Mountain Men. I want to meet with your leader and form an alliance against the Mountain Men."

Anya eyed Clarke and slowly, stood up and forced Clarke up with her. Anya kept a strong hold on the strips of leather around Clarke's wrists. "I do not trust you not to run. I'll take you to our Commander. But you will not leave. If you try to leave, I'll tie you back up again. You're staying right where you are, Klark." Anya pulled on the straps around Klark's wrists, and pulled the younger along. Anya only turned when she was sure that Clarke was moving along with her, behind her.

Clarke rolled her eyes. So this was about being territorial and possessive? That was one way of "wooing" your mate. It wasn't like Clarke _didn't_ want to be with Anya, but they had more pressing matters to think about. Like the Mountain Men abducting and killing both their peoples.

That wasn't something they could just forget about or pretend wasn't happening and wasn't the most important thing to pay attention to.

They were fully in the forest when they realized they were being followed by the Mountain Men. They quickly lost them and Anya dragged Clarke down to the water. Anya nodded to the water, urging Clarke to drink. Clarke nodded, cupping up some water and drank. She did this four times till she was sure she had enough water in her system to keep moving again.

Anya then grabbed up some mud and slapped it on the left side of her face. Clarke gasped, stunned. She turned and looked at Anya in question. Anya answered her glare, "You reek. You have their stench all over you. I don't like the smell of the Mountain Men on you, Klark." Clarke tried not to snort. Again with the territorial thing. "I smell?" She asked Anya, "You haven't bathed in days. Maybe it's _your_ smell attracting them."

Anya snorted this time, "I smell like anything else in a forest. You? You smell too much like them."

Clarke was surprised how much Anya sounded bothered by this. She looked really uneasy about her smelling or dressing in any way like the Mountain Men. Was it just a territorial thing? Anya started getting up and Clarke sighed, knowing they weren't going to talk about this. Not now, anyway. Something about her smelling like the Mountain Men really, really bothered Anya. It seemed like it was more than just the territorial thing.

They passed through the brush and still, they were sure they were being followed.

Anya turned to Clarke suspiciously and Clarke feared what Anya would say. "How are they still following us? Are you leading them to us?" Clarke glared at the older woman. "How? How would I do that? You've been watching me the whole time." Anya nodded. "You could be leading them to us. Leaving them clues." "Why would I do that?" Clarke asked angrily, trying to cover up her hurt over being accused of that. Anya shook her head, "You kept trying to leave before. How do I know you still aren't trying to?"

Clarke gaped, feeling like she had been slapped.

"I don't want to leave you, Anya." She snapped. "I'm not trying to leave. I don't know how they're following us." A thought hit her then. Wait a second. They definitely had the technological means to do it. "Maybe," She said, thinking about it, "Maybe one of us is chipped." Anya gave her a confused look and Clarke explained, "Check yourself. Under your jacket. It will be a bump on your arm or you ribs. Under your skin." Anya started to slowly pull her jacket back and Clarke did the same, hands bound together, pushed her jacket back to see if the Mountain Men had put anything under her skin to make sure they knew where she was if she managed to get away.

She heard a gasp in front of her and she looked at Anya. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the bump under the skin of Anya's left arm. Her mouth dropped. "It's you." She whispered. "Okay," She tried to think, ignoring the growing fear for Anya. "I just need something small and sharp. Maybe find some water we can sterilize it with." But Anya wasn't listening. She ducked her head down and bit down hard to Clarke's shock, into her arm and bit around the bump in her arm, pulling her head back, mouth full of blood and strips of flesh from her arm.

Clarke's mouth dropped at what she just saw. Anya spit out the blood and flesh, blood trickling down her chin and down onto the forest floor. Anya's eyes blazed, ignoring the long wound in her arm. "I won't let either of us go back there." Anya growled. Clarke nodded. Well, okay then.

Anya didn't even wait for Clarke to answer, she started moving again, pulling Clarke along. Clarke stared at the blood dripping from Anya's arm, seeing the soulmate mark right at the shoulder, behind where Anya had ripped out the tracker. Now she was really worried. If that wound didn't get looked at soon…

And they had just been kneeling in the dirt. And who knew how dirty that jacket was that Anya had on?

Clarke's nervousness about Anya's safety was growing and she didn't want to think about how that slash would look eventually if it wasn't looked at soon. They were starting to get away from the Mountain Men, with no danger of being followed now and Clarke realized eventually that they were getting close to the dropship.

She recognized some of the landmarks that she and the other kids had put around so that they could remember them so that they wouldn't get lost in the woods.

There were strips of leather tied around branches and smaller, thinner trees, stones with marks on them, or pieces of metal jammed into the soil as markers.

"Anya," Clarke said, realization coming to her, remembering that there were supplies at the dropship for cuts and wounds, "The ship that my people and I came down in? It's here. Come with me to it. There are supplies in it. I can look at your cut with those supplies. Please. I don't want to risk your cut getting infected."

Anya looked at her arm and looked like she was thinking about what her mate was saying seriously.

Clarke added, "Please. My people are locked up at the mountain. They're not at the dropship. If I don't look at that wound soon, it could get infected. And you could die. I don't want to lose you."

Clarke knew she was being manipulative, using her emotions against Anya like that, but she needed to know that Anya was going to be safe. Anya's safety meant too much to her. Anya eventually nodded. "No tricks, Skai girl." Anya warned. Clarke nodded, breathing out in relief. Okay, cooperation. That was a start.

Anya watched her every move as they walked together closer to the dropship's territory. Clarke pointed out the markers for Anya and Anya walked around them, careful of any possible traps, glaring at Clarke when Clarke chuckled at Anya's paranoia.

They reached the burnt circle of ground that surrounded the tall, bulky, metal dropship. Clarke felt sick when she saw all the bodies lying around the ground.

These people, Anya's people…

Clarke looked at Anya, who was staring at the many corpses littering the ground.

"Anya…" Clarke said quietly. Anya shook her head and started moving to the ship in front of them, the metal platform of the ship down on the ground, as they had been forced to leave it. The ship was open to them thankfully. Clarke and Anya stepped around the lain out, burnt bodies and they walked up the platform. When they were inside the ship, Anya looked at Clarke. "Well, Skai girl?" Anya asked. "These supplies you said would help my wound? Where are they?"

"Give me a second." Clarke said, glaring at Anya and walked to the walls where the compartments were with all the supplies. She reached out with still tied hands and pulled open a few drawers, smiling when she saw the bottles of ointment, rolls of gauze, bags of unused needles, stitches and cotton ball packs.

She reached in and pulled out each of these objects, showing them to Anya. "These. I'll use them." She added, smirking playfully, "A lot safer than burning your wounds and putting the wounds more at risk of infection." Anya scowled. "We do not need to look after the wounds like that. It stops the bleeding. I'm not so weak that I'll fear being burned."

Clarke snorted. "You're missing the point, Anya. It's not about strength. It's about being intelligent. It's about being smart enough to be safe. You might stop the bleeding by burning your wounds, but you're risking infection. And that's just as dangerous as bleeding to death. So this?" She held up the objects again. "They're the smart way of looking after your wounds. It makes sure there's no infection. So you said you'd let me look after your wound. Will you?"

Anya hesitated. She nodded then and Clarke smiled, nodding to the many seats of the ship. The seats where she and the other 100 had been strapped to on their way down here.

Anya was looking at the seats uneasily and Clarke chuckled, making Anya look at her. "I'm sorry, Anya," Clarke said, knowing she was about to pull an underhanded means of manipulation but knew she needed to look at Anya's wound. "But you said you weren't afraid of something a second ago. But you're afraid of these seats just because they were used by Sky people?"

Anya's eyes burned and she glared at Clarke. "I fear nothing, Skai girl." She spat. "Then show that you fear nothing." Clarke snapped back, nodding at the seats. "And by the way? If I want to look at your wound?" She raised her hands and showed her hands being bound together. "I kind of need to have my hands untied."

Anya stared at Clarke for a few seconds before reaching out and untying Clarke's hands. "Do not try to run, Klark." Anya warned. "Wounded or not, I'll drag you back and tie you to me if I have to." Clarke rolled her eyes. As kinky as that sounded, considering one of them had half of her left shoulder ripped out and they were both exhausted and being hunted, now wasn't the time for that. "Yes, yes." She said. "I won't run. Promise."

Anya eyed her again before untying her totally, letting the strips of leather fall to the floor. She waited till Clarke got closer to start moving to the seats. Anya sat down at the end seat on the right. Clarke hadn't missed that that was the seat where she and Wells had sat together when they had dropped down here. Anya stuck her left arm out, taking off the jacket and letting it drop and dangle from her body.

Clarke kneeled down in front of Anya, starting to work.

The light that leaked in through the doorway of the dropship was beginning to dim when Clarke was almost finished. Anya's arm was sterilized, padded with alcohol covered swabs. And padded over with gauze. Clarke stitched up Anya's wound, watching as Anya's face didn't even twitch when the needle went through the flesh and the flesh was pulled. Anya, like all her people, had been trained to show no sign of pain. Clarke pulled at the strings and stitched Anya's wound up and wrapped the gauze around it, patching the area up.

Anya looked over out the doorway. "It's getting dark." She said. "Is there a way to close this ship of yours?"

Clarke looked over at the opened platform. She looked back at Anya who was staring at the opening with concern. "There is. Why?" Anya looked at Clarke. "Close the ship. The Reapers will be out hunting soon." Clarke cocked her head. "Reapers? What are those?" Anya stared at Clarke like Clarke had landed too hard after jumping out of the mountain. "The creatures we saw in the mountain that made us jump. They used to be just men and women from our different tribes. But the Mountain Men captured them and changed them. They became Ripas instead."

Clarke's mouth dropped as she understood. The "Reapers" were once Grounders. But the Mountain Men changed that. Like the blood draining she had seen in the mountain, the Mountain Men had made those Grounders into something monstrous.

She shuddered again before she could help it. Now those "Reapers" were more tragic than they were threatening. They had used to have lives like the Grounders. And the Mountain Men had taken that away from them.

Clarke's hate of the Mountain Men was palpable now. She got up, putting the medical tools down and went to the door, where the button was to close the platform door. Clarke almost jumped when she felt Anya come up next to her, eyes on her, hands waiting at her side as if ready to grab her, should Clarke try to make a run for it, even with her arm just recently stitched up.

Clarke sighed. "Will you calm down? I'm not going anywhere." Clarke reached for the platform door's button and pressed it. The platform door eventually slipped up and creaked mechanically. It eventually closed fully, making the structure of the dropship shake. Clarke turned to Anya. "Okay, we're safe inside. Can the Reapers get to us through here?" Anya shook her head. "There's no reason why they should be interested in this ship if they don't know that there's something to kill inside. That's why we stay hidden until night has passed."

Clarke nodded and checked her father's watch on her wrist. It was still somehow working, despite the water. This thing could probably survive another apocalypse. The clock's face read "9:00." So they had another ten or so hours before it was safe to open this ship's door up. She sighed. Well, it was a good thing there were other supplies in this ship besides medical supplies. This ship had backup supplies like dried meat and food in paste form and extra water in case something happened to the delinquents on Earth that made it impossible to find actual resources.

Clarke was positive that everything that had happened counted as "something happening."

Clarke gestured to the inside of the ship. "Come on. There is some water and some food that we can use. I'm afraid it's not very good food, but it'll keep us sustained."

Anya followed Clarke to the opposite end of the ship, where the other compartments were and Clarke opened those compartments up, pulling out the plastic containers of the food paste and some of the bottles of water, putting them down on a nearby seat of the ship for Anya to grab. Clarke was sure that none of this stuff looked appealing, but she was relieved to see Anya lift up one of the packages and eye the contents.

"This looks like mud." Anya said, making Clarke giggle. "I bet. We don't exactly have food in the normal sense. We didn't have animals on the Ark where we're from. So the food was made differently. It's hard to explain. But it's sort of meat and sort of vegetables." Anya was looking at the food suspiciously. Clarke nodded. "I promise it's safe to eat. We all have eaten that stuff for years and years. It's not that pleasant to eat. But it's better than nothing."

Anya scowled at the container, but shrugged. She opened up the can and put her fingers inside, scooping out some of the muck and stuck some of it into her mouth, tasting it. Her nose wrinkled and she grunted, pulling her fingers out and opened her mouth a few times to swallow down the food, looking mildly disgusted. Clarke smirked. The normally sensual gesturing of sticking your fingers into your mouth was shadowed over by Anya's clear revulsion of the food.

"You and your people eat this regularly?" Anya asked, sounding like she didn't believe it. Clarke nodded. "I'm afraid so. Like I said, it kept us alive for years. Even if it didn't taste that good at all."

Anya sighed, dipping her fingers into the container again. "When we reach Polis and you eat some of the food there, you won't remember a time when you ate food as tasteless as this."

Clarke chuckled, thinking about what Anya said. Polis. Where was that? "What's Polis?" She asked, looking up at the older woman. Anya looked at her. "It's the capital of our land. Our Heda, the Commander rules there. The council of all tribes attend meetings to speak with our Commander." Anya added, "The Commander was my Second once. My student. I taught her before she ascended and became the current Commander."

Clarke's eyes widened in approval. "That's impressive." She admitted. Anya smirked at the praise. She lifted her fingers to her mouth and ate, frowning in distaste. Clarke leaned down and picked up a package of manufactured food. "How many tribes are there?" She asked, without turning to Anya. Anya answered after a pause, "Twelve. My tribe, the Trikru. The Tree people. There are the Ouskejonkru. The Blue Cliff People. The Sankru. The Sand tribe. There are the Boudalankru. The Rock Line tribe. The Azgeda. Ice Nation. The Ingranronakru. The Plains people. The Luwodakru. Shallow Valley tribe. The Podakru. Lake people. The Trishanakru. The Glowing Forest tribe. The Floukru. The Boat people. The Delfikru. Delfi people. And the Yujledakru. The Broadleaf tribe."

Clarke's head felt like it was going to explode with this kind of information. So many tribes. Wow. She really hoped they could make peace. She did not want her people going up against twelve freaking tribes.

But another part of her was incredibly intrigued. Twelve tribes. A whole culture to learn about. Twelve cultures possibly. It was a new world to explore and new cultures. They only now just had to survive that new world.

They eventually sat down on two of the back seats and ate and drank, Anya making the occasional disgusted remark about the food, Clarke finding it funny. Clarke would ask questions about the tribes and Anya divulged the information that Clarke asked for. What resources each tribe gave in contribution to sustain this "coalition" that the current Commander had formed.

Anya kept answering the questions Clarke asked, not showing any signs of being annoyed at the questions. When did the coalition get formed? What was the world like before the coalition was formed? Which tribe was the Commander from? How did a Commander get chosen?

The last answer to Clarke's question had been a frightening one. As it turned out, the Commanders of this culture was selected through trial by combat. And it was to the death. And it was between children as young as six or older. Just because they had different blood from everyone else.

Clarke felt sick when Anya had told her that. These people had kids that young kill each other to have control of an entire culture of people?

Clarke's disgust must have been obvious because Anya shook her head and answered while getting some more food from her package, "Our culture has survived for so long because we have this way of getting our Commanders and putting them into power."

Clarke shook her head, "Not that long. It's only been ninety-five years since the bombs hit. Your culture isn't that old. How do you know for sure that this way of doing things will make your culture last that long? A culture built up without compassion can't last for long." When Anya looked at her sharply, Clarke sighed, "Trust me, I know. I'm from a culture that has no compassion."

Anya's anger turned to curiosity. Clarke said quietly, gesturing around the damaged dropship, "All this? This ship? Do you know why we all came down in it and no one else? It's because we were test subjects. Like I said on the bridge when we first met, we didn't know that there were people down here. We didn't think anyone could live on Earth. But the place I come from? The Ark? It was dying. That's why we were sent down. But we weren't sent down as a gift. We were criminals, you see. Me, Finn, the boy that you captured before with me? All the kids that you saw fighting your people? They were all criminals. We all were."

Anya cocked her head, finding this information strange. Klark, a criminal? The thought was strange. Onya would admit that people were capable of anything. But given Klark's gentility, she had a hard time believing that Klark was any kind of criminal.

"What was _your_ crime, Skai girl?" Onya asked. Klark shrugged, grimacing. "Treason."

Onya's narrowed her eyes and really looked at Klark. Klark, a traitor? Now that, Onya couldn't believe. Seeing how confused Onya was, Klark sighed. "All crimes were punishable by death on the Ark. Even if it was something as small as stealing something for food if someone is starving. It was to make sure that we had more oxygen. The majority of the Ark would have more air to breathe out in space, since there's no air to breathe outside of the Ark. But since the Ark was breaking down slowly, the people in charge on the Ark decided to send all the criminals down to test if Earth was livable.

"As for my crime?" Clarke laughed, the laugh almost a bark, startling Anya. "What I did was know too much. My father knew that the Ark was breaking down. And I knew too. So to silence us both, the person in charge on the Ark had my father executed for treason and had me sent down to Earth for the same reason. Me and the other 100? We weren't executed because we weren't eighteen yet. We were considered children on the Ark. So they didn't kill us. But used us to see if Earth was survivable."

Anya listened to all this, almost disbelieving. She understood this kind of savagery, as there had been times when resources had been so low that people had been killed to preserve the little resources that were left.

But the rest was beyond anything Anya had seen or heard. Usually when crimes as small as thievery were committed, whippings were the most punishment received. Death? For stealing?

Using 100 children as 'test subjects,' as Klark had said?

The people in power in Klark's culture were more cowardly than Onya had ever imagined. And they had killed her mate's father, just because he knew something they didn't want him to know.

Anya's teeth grinded together. What kind of cowardly people were Klark's people? Klark seemed to be the only brave exception.

And Klark had lost her father because of these cowards. Her heart hurt for Klark's loss. "I'm sorry." Onya said to Klark, startling the blonde. "For the loss of your father." She said sadly, thinking of her long since dead mother and her mourning father. Klark nodded, grateful. "Thank you." She said, saddened eyes looking at the floor, her hand touching that device on her wrist.

"Your people are very cowardly." Onya growled, thinking about all that Klark had suffered because of these weaklings. Klark shrugged, looking pained, "Some of them are. But that's my point. A society can't survive that long with such cruelty. Maybe for one hundred years. Maybe two hundred. Maybe three hundred. Maybe more. But one day, that society is going to collapse on itself because there's no compassion to sustain it." Anya thought about what Klark was saying, frowning. Was Klark right? She saw what Klark's peoples' cowardice resulted in. It resulted in leaders who were too cowardly to venture onto the ground themselves to see if the ground was livable and instead used children to do it for them.

No. Her people were not like Klark's. She glared. "My people would never use children to decide our fates."

Klark stretched her neck up and looked at Anya skeptically. "You mean like having a bunch of children killing each other to decide who rules the lands of all tribes?"

The question was startling for Anya and she almost growled as her mind made the comparison and saw what Klark was saying. She realized she may have just stepped into Klark's trap. "Very clever, Skai girl." Onya said dryly. "Getting me to compare what your people did to you with what my people do to choose leaders."

Klark shrugged. "I'm just making observations. Just because one culture has a lot wrong with it, doesn't mean that another culture doesn't have its own problems that should be changed." Klark looked at Onya, eyes meeting the older woman's eyes. "Tell me, Anya, how long do you think a culture could last having children being rulers and having that kind of pressure put on them? That kind of burden?"

Klark shook her head. "I had to be one of the three leaders of the 100. And it's a lot to carry. It's a lot. And that was only one hundred people, Anya. And I had help. Remember the guy that shot at you at the bridge and the woman he was with? Raven and Bellamy? Those were the people that led with me. How long do you think a whole civilization could last doing the same thing with a child as young as eight or nine inheriting the mantle of Commander, with over a million people as their responsibility? Alone?"

The words felt like a blow. Each word. Onya thought about Klark's words, the words bothering her more than she'd like. She would not believe that the young girl who had been her Seken would be so weak to be affected by the burden of leadership. But the leadership of an entire people? Twelve tribes?

Was there truth to Klark's words?

She had not seen Leksa in four years. The orders from her Commander had been simple. Remain in the Trikru territory and guard it and make sure that the Mountain Men didn't get out of their territorial line. There would be guards at the river, keeping any allies from getting to the mountain and any people from the mountain getting across to their territory.

Onya truthfully didn't know how Leksa was finding her role as Commander. To the rest of the world, Leksa was the perfect Heda. But Onya knew her Seken well. This burden was affecting Leksa, and she knew it.

She thought of Tris then and her jaw tightened. Tris. Was Klark saying that if they didn't train children, then Tris wouldn't have been there? Onya tried to think. And was that a wrong assumption?

Before Onya could help it, she asked, "And Tris?"

Klark winced.

Klark looked away. "Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything. It's not my culture. So I shouldn't try act like I understand everything about it." Onya looked at Klark and said with meaning, "I _want_ you to understand it. I thought I was making it obvious that I wanted you to be a part of it." Klark sucked in a breath and her cheeks turned a deep pink color before she looked away. Despite the seriousness of their discussion, Anya found a low purr at the sight of Klark blushing coming up in her throat.

She found the whole thing ridiculous. She finally had her mate here, alone. And they were _talking_. It wasn't like she didn't believe talking and getting to know your mate was part of the relationship. Because of course it was. But ever since she realized who her mate was, the first thing that had come to Anya's mind had been to keep Klark safe from the war, keep her safe from harm and hold her, keep her with her tribe. Make Klark hers.

Clarke sighed, looking at that strange device on her wrist again. "It's been a few hours," She said, "I'm going to go to sleep. There are some blankets in the compartments. I'll get them. Don't freak out, I'm not running off." Onya watched Klark go to the wall, not sure what "freak out" meant, but watched the blonde's movements and watched her pull open one of these "compartments" and pull out a couple of blankets as she promised.

Onya put the food packages down. Even if they didn't taste horrible, she and Klark had both eaten enough to get some of their strength back.

She tossed one of the blankets on the seats next to Anya. "There's yours." She said. "This one's mine." She held up the blanket. She nodded at the floor. "We can sleep somewhere on the floor here." She pointed to a metal ladder behind her, leading straight up. "Or we can sleep up there. There's a second, smaller floor."

Onya looked up at the small shaft. There was a large door hanging from the hatch opening with a metal wheel in the middle of the door.

Onya looked at Klark and said with meaning in her voice, "Where are _you_ sleeping, Klark?" Klark looked at Onya, startled. Onya lifted her eyebrows up with meaning. Klark looked like she was considering what Onya was saying and Onya could see that Klark's deep contemplation wasn't just over where to sleep. It was whether or not she should accept Onya's request. Onya was sure Klark understood what she was doing. And she was hoping Klark would not reject her tonight. But if Klark did not want her with her in that way tonight, then she would sleep next to Klark, make sure she couldn't leave, but not lay a hand on her.

She would not take someone who did not freely give herself to her.

After what felt like years Klark looked at Onya, really looked at her and Onya could have sworn that the younger's eyes were darker than before. Klark's left hand was still holding her blanket. Her right hand stretched out in an invitation to Onya.

Onya looked at Klark with more vulnerable hope than she had meant to.

Klark twitched all of her fingers back and forth, trying to urge Onya to take her hand. Onya slowly got up, grabbed her blanket, feeling exhausted, but wouldn't be away from Klark for a moment and she took Klark's warm hand in hers. Klark smiled and walked, leading the older to the back of the ship and laying the blanket out, sitting down on it eventually. She patted the space next to her. Onya slowly, as if not sure this was actually happening, put the blanket down net to Klark and lay down next to her, wrapping some of the blanket over herself. Klark did the same with her blanket and scooted closer to Onya.

Onya's first instinct was to grab Klark and pull her close to her chest, but she was so stumped by Klark's actions that she didn't know what she should do next. Klark, seeing Onya's hesitation, smiled. "Anya, do you want us to do this or not? Are you too tired? It's okay if you are. We can always have sex another time. I just really want to hold you right now."

Onya almost moaned at Klark's words. Yes, she very much wanted to have sex with Klark. It felt like her brain was having difficulty making her answer, but yes, she did. But Klark's words made Onya almost crumple from how loving they sounded. Onya inched forward and took Klark into her arms. Klark's arms wrapped around Onya in only a second. Her arms squeezed and she buried her face in Onya's neck.

"Anya." Klark whispered, sounding blissful. Onya's chest felt warm. Unimaginably warm. She lay her cheek against the top of Klark's head, closing her eyes. Was this what having your mate in your life, in your arms was like?

"Anya?" Klark asked, making Anya look down at her, pulling her head away from the younger's. "Can…can you forgive me for everything that's happened? The village. The three hundred warriors…Tris?"

The question made Onya's chest hurt. Could she forgive Klark for the village? Yes. Despite all the deaths and the people that had lost their homes, she knew Klark wouldn't have done it if she and her people knew. And she doubted that Klark had been the only one that used those fires that had burnt down the village. The "flares." The three hundred warriors that were outside, their bodies burnt? As much as a part of Onya wanted to begrudge Klark and her people for that, it was during war. As much as she wanted to still be angry, it had been war. What was a leader supposed to do? Do nothing while her people were killed?

And Tris? Onya hurt thinking about Tris. It had been war. And Tris had been a warrior in that war. Warriors died all the time. Onya wanted to be angry at Klark, but couldn't find it in her. That wound would always be there. But she couldn't only hold Klark accountable. Should Tris have even been in a war in the first place?

Onya sighed. She might very well have been just as to blame for Tris's death as Klark was.

"Klark," Onya spoke as softly as she could, "There's nothing to forgive. It was war. We were going to end up like this, with one of us hurting the other one way or the other." Onya felt Klark's arms tighten around her body at those words. Klark looked at her, eyes wet with tears. Onya reached up and wiped away a few of them carefully.

"I'm sorry about Tris." Klark said painfully. Onya nodded, kissing Klark's forehead. "I'm sorry about your father." They held onto each other for what felt like ages. Till Onya finally asked something quietly.

"Klark?" Onya asked hopefully. "Are you sure you want to make love?"

Klark gave a small laugh and put her head against Onya's chest. There was a soft chuckle against Onya's chest before her throat was kissed gently, making Onya gasp. "Yes, Anya. Yes and yes."

Klark pulled her head away and looked up at Onya, eyes even darker now as she smiled. She wiped away the last of her tears. She pushed herself closer to Onya, her right leg slipping between Onya's, raising up against Onya's groin. Onya's gasp left her throat and her head fell back against her will. She heard another chuckle as she was rolled over onto her back, Klark straddling her.

Klark smirked down at a bewildered Onya. She grabbed Onya's hands by the wrists and pinned them at the sides of Onya's head. Onya looked at her hands for a second, startled, looking back at Klark. Klark's light blonde hair fell past her right shoulder and she smirked. "Do you think with your energy and your injury I'm going to let you push yourself? You lie right there." Klark lowered herself, mouth kissing Onya's mouth softly, tongue darting into Onya's mouth, stroking the older woman's tongue.

Onya moaned up into the kiss. She would have squirmed and tried to get Klark off of her and change their positions, straddling Klark instead. But Klark was right. She was too tired. Too drained. Klark pulled her mouth away from Onya's and lowered her head down to Onya's throat, biting down on Onya's neck gently.

Onya growled, hips bucking up to hit Klark's. After what felt like forever of Klark swirling her tongue around the flesh that Klark bit on Onya's neck, she pulled back and looked into Onya's dazed eyes. "Anya," She said, "If you don't want me to be in control, then speak up now. Tell me you don't want to do this if you're not in control. But if you do want to do this and are willing to let me be on top tonight, then get ready. Because it's lucky that you're tired and wounded. If you weren't, I'd do more than half of the things that I've been wanting to do to you since I first met you. But tonight I'm afraid you'll just have to settle for half of those things. With your permission, Anya."

Anya couldn't help the sharp, heat that struck her belly and below her waist. She might normally prefer to be the dominant one, and had been hoping to show Klark how she felt even before she realized that she and the younger were mates, but Klark's proposition was far too tempting to turn away from.

To know just how badly specifically Klark wanted her; that was something she could not pass up.

Onya met Klark's dark, hungry gaze with one of her own. "Yes, Klark. You can do whatever it is you want with me tonight. It is obvious that I can't do anything to stop you from having your way with me, Skai girl." She lowered her voice just enough so that she was sure that Klark would understand her meaning and that she was all too happy right now to be submissive. Klark's lower jaw opened a little, teeth showing as the hunger in her eyes deepened. Klark leaned down and released Onya's hand to lower down to Onya's thin shirt that the older woman had stolen and pulled it up.

 **Author's note**

 **I know, evil. Cutting it off right at the best part, sorry. But next chapter, there will be more. And next chapter, this story will be rated M for obvious reasons.**


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